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this thing
I want to make them feel better
but is it just for my pleasure?
these broken souls bare thier bodies to me
and in i sink my teeth
praying on the weak
when help is all they seek
I absorb thier sorrow
and i chew up all thier pain
when i can no longer stand the taste
I spit it back in their face
they bleed lies
and sing thier sad songs
and here i am to play along
on my little string they prance
as i wiggle my fingers
making them dance
emotion is funny, in a way that makes snakes look like saints
and evil tastes too sweet
i dont hear my brains inaudible whispers
tempting me
subliminally
with sinful things
the bait i take so easily
Alone i will not go
others must fall to keep me sustained
A vampire i am to the weak
suckng out what little they can bring
so heed warning
and take caution when approaching
because a monster lives
inside this THING
Interesting poem
Made me a bit curious about what you thought when you wrote it. I thought about that little consoler inside everyone of us. That need we all have to help others and how that need sort of dries out when we get tired of the role as helpers. Good work! :D
I'm always lying, in fact, I'm lying to you right now.